Youth

    Mood of youth,
    Mood of youth,
Eagle-like must seek the blue,
Dauntlessly its course pursue,
All the mountain-heights must view.
    Blood of youth,
    Blood of youth,
Steam-like puts full-speed to sea,
E'en though storm and ice there be,
Makes its way and romps in glee.
    Dream of youth,
    Dream of youth,
Rogue-like stealing sets its snare
In the maiden's morning-prayer;
All the springtime, fragrant, glowing,
In its airy waves is flowing.
    Joy of youth,
    Joy of youth,
Waterfall-like foams in truth,
Laughing, rainbow-gifts forth flashing,
Even while to death 't is dashing.
    Joy of youth,
    Dream of youth,
    Blood of youth,
    Mood of youth,
Clothe the world with colors golden,
Singing songs that never olden.

Bjørnstjerne Martinius Bjørnson

Bjørnstjerne Martinius Bjørnson was a Norwegian writer and one of the four great Norwegian writers, along with Henrik Ibsen, Jonas Lie, and Alexander Kielland. Bjørnson is recognized for his pivotal role in Norwegian literature and his works contributing significantly to Norwegian national identity. He was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1903 and also wrote the lyrics to the Norwegian national anthem, 'Ja, vi elsker dette landet'. Bjørnson was an influential figure in Norway's cultural and political life during his lifetime.

Bjørnstjerne Martinius Bjørnson

The Maiden On The Shore

Bjørnstjerne Martinius Bjørnson, Simple Poetry

The Dove (From Halte Hulda)

Bjørnstjerne Martinius Bjørnson, Simple Poetry

The Child In Our Soul

Bjørnstjerne Martinius Bjørnson, Simple Poetry

Nils Finn (From Halte Hulda)

Bjørnstjerne Martinius Bjørnson, Simple Poetry

English

Suggested Poems

Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.

Youth.

Sweet empty sky of June without a stain,
    Faint, gray-blue dewy mists on far-off hills,
Warm, yellow sunlight flooding mead and plain,
    That each dark copse and hollow overfills;
    The rippling laugh of unseen, rain-fed rills,
Weeds delicate-flowered, white and pink and gold,
A murmur and a singing manifold.


The gray, austere old earth renews her youth
    With dew-lines, sunshine, gossamer, and haze.
How still she lies and dreams, and veils the truth,
    While all is fresh as in the early days!
    What simple things be these the soul to raise
To bounding joy, and make young pulses beat,
With nameless pleasure finding life so sweet.


On such a golden morning forth there floats,
    Between the soft earth and the softer sky,
In ...

Emma Lazarus

Youth And Age.

YOUTH.

Pilgrim of life! thy hoary head
    Is bent with age, thine eye
Looks downward to the silent dead,
    Wreck of mortality!--
The friends who flourished in thy day
    Have sought their narrow home;
Their spirits whisper, "Come away!"--


AGE.

    My soul replies, I come.--
I tread the path I trod a child,
    The fields I loved of yore;
The flowers that 'neath my footsteps smiled
    Now meet my gaze no more.
I stand beneath this giant oak!
    It was an aged tree,
Hollowed by time's resistless stroke,
    When life was green with me.
Its lofty head it proudly rears
    To greet the summer sky,
Whilst, bending with the weight of years,
    I feebly totter by.
And hushed are all the thousand songs
...

Susanna Moodie

Young Men And Women, Strong And Sound

Young men and women, strong and sound,
Adorn with beautiful excess
Of play and song and flower-dress
Our fatherland's ancestral ground.
They dream great deeds of ages older,
They long to lead to battles bolder.

Young men and women, strong and sound,
Our nation's honor are, in whom
Our whole life has its better bloom,
Rebirth upon our fathers' ground
Of them of yore. Anew there flower
The old in young folks' summer-power.

Young men and women, strong and sound,
Can doubly do our deeds and fill
With higher hope for all we will, -
Are growth in character's deep ground,
To larger life drawn by the spirit
They from our forefathers inherit.

Bjørnstjerne Martinius Bjørnson

Student-Song.

When Youth's warm heart beats high, my friend,
    And Youth's blue sky is bright,
And shines in Youth's clear eye, my friend,
    Love's early dawning light,
Let the free soul spurn care's control,
    And while the glad days shine,
We'll use their beams for Youth's gay dreams
    Of Love and Song and Wine.

Let not the bigot's frown, my friend,
    O'ercast thy brow with gloom,
For Autumn's sober brown, my friend,
    Shall follow Summer's bloom.
Let smiles and sighs and loving eyes
    In changeful beauty shine,
And shed their beams on Youth's gay dreams
    Of Love and Song and Wine.

For in the weary years, my friend,
    That stretched before us lie,
There'll be enough of tears, my friend,
    To dim the brightest eye.
So le...

John Hay

Youth And Age.

I love the joyous thoughtless heart,
The revels of the youthful mind,
'Ere sad experience points the dart,
Which wounds so surely all mankind.

It glads me when the buoyant soul,
Unconscious ranges, fancy free,
Draining the sweets of pleasure's bowl,
And thinking all as blest as he.

Ah! me, yet sad it is to know,
The many griefs the future brings,
That time must change that note to woe,
Which now its merry carrol sings.

This "summer of the mind," alas!
Must have its autumn--leafless, bare,
When all these pleasing phantoms pass,
And end in winter, age, and care!

Such, such is life, the moral tells--
The tempest, and its sunny smiles,
A warning voice the cheerful bells,
The knell of death, our youth beguiles!

Thomas Gent

The Youth And The Millstream.

YOUTH.

Say, sparkling streamlet, whither thou

Art going!
With joyous mien thy waters now

Are flowing.
Why seek the vale so hastily?
Attend for once, and answer me!

MILLSTREAM.

Oh youth, I was a brook indeed;

But lately
My bed they've deepen'd, and my speed

Swell'd greatly,
That I may haste to yonder mill.
And so I'm full and never still.

YOUTH.

The mill thou seekest in a mood

Contented,
And know'st not how my youthful blood

'S tormented.
But doth the miller's daughter fair
Gaze often on thee kindly there?

MILLSTREAM.

She opes the shutters soon as light

Is gleaming;
And comes to bathe her features bright

And beaming.
So ful...

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe